Love is like Chocolate
by Waiting in the Wings
Summary: Willie Wonka has done it again, he's sent out golden tickets, but instead of looking for a succesor, he's looking for a wife. The problem the women think their bringing their siblings to tour a chocolate factory. interactive OC's needed.
1. Skye and Alex

**AUTHOR'S CORNER; I have never written and Charlie and the Chocolate factory fic, so this is my attempt at one, let me know if I should continue.**

Some people might say love is the most important thing in the world, and before this story I would have been inclined to disagree. In my life, love was the last thing you thought of.

Love for your family, your friends and most importantly a man, was the least important thing. In my world money was all the mattered and having a job, everything else was crap, bottom line.

Sorry if I sound cynical, but that was the way I was raised, living in New York with practically no money was not a desirable lifestyle for anyone, including my parents.

But this story isn't about them; it's about me and my little brother, and a certain chocolate maker.

I was twenty and my brother was twelve, sickly boy, he was pale and thin with corn silk colored hair and huge blue eyes, he resembled an angel.

But he was lame, and had to ride in a wheelchair, and if that torture wasn't enough for him, the children at school teased him, and made fun of his studious nature and quiet ways.

I on the other hand was a different matter completely, I was short and built with a little waist and a bigger bottom, and I had spiky shoulder length hair, the color of copper. I was very different than my brother personality wise, I was a tough, opinionated, aggressive, girl, but dreamy, with a story always in my head.

I worked for a newspaper and planned to save up enough money to get my brother and me away from my parents, who were into drugs and drinking, which meant they were not very interested in caring for my brother and his disability.

So I might as well start at the beginning, I was walking home from my job, when I saw advertisement in the window for a thing called a "Wonka Bar" it was chocolate, that was easy to see, but they were also advertising a chance to for two to go to England and tour the Wonka factory.

And I thought why not, besides, my brother loves chocolate and he rarely got any, so I went inside the store, not having a clue how big a part this would play in my future.

I entered into the store, the bell at the top of the glass door clanged and the store clerk looked up from his newspaper, he looked me over and apparently deciding I didn't want to rob him, he turned back to his paper not even offering to help me.

But I was used to this; you see when your not dressed in overly expensive clothing people tend to think your one of two things, 1. Thug or 2. Trash.

He apparently thought the latter, but I knew one day when I made something of myself and I refused to buy anymore candy from his store, he would regret his scorn.

With these thoughts in my head, I strode over to the candy counter, where a plump curly headed woman with red cheeks was working.

She looked me up and down, and gave me a pleasant smile. She obviously thought I was a nice enough looking girl, so I smiled back.

"Make sure you don't eat too much chocolate or you'll end up with a figure like this." she said teasingly as she rang up my candy.

"Oh, don't worry this is for my brother." I replied in a kinder tone than I usually used, as I reached for the bag of candy.

She nodded understandingly, "Ah, I wish I had been as kind to my siblings. I was a mean ole thing when it came to them and jealous as well." she shook her head sending her brown gray streaked curls flying.

"I wouldn't have the heart to be, mean to the poor child," I admitted, "you see he's lame, and cannot walk."

"Ah, sorry to hear It." she said sympathy reflecting in her large doe brown eyes.

I just nodded, and walked away. I didn't want to see sympathy in her eyes, it was what made the boy think he couldn't do anything, but he was very smart and that would lead him to places no one else could go, including myself.

--

When I entered the small dank apartment, Alex, my brother came rolling over to me, a sad look in his large blue eyes.

I guessed from the lack of smoke and screaming my parents weren't home, yet and that always was a good thing.

"Hey, Alex." I said putting on a cheerful font for my brother, hoping the kids had not been as cruel as usual.

"Hi, Skye." he said with a little smile, as he saw the brown paper bag in my hand, "what do you got?" he asked, curiously.

"I bought Chocolate for you." I said handing him the paper bag after removing my thick wool coat, and many scarves.

He placed the bag in his lap, but didn't open it.

"Are you going to eat it?" I asked, raising my brow.

"Later." he replied.

"So, how was school?" I asked as I walked into the kitchen, and beginning to make myself a cup of coffee before my parents returned home from wherever they were.

"Okay." he replied with a shrug of his thin shoulders.

"Did, any bullies mess with you?" I asked with sigh, when Alex was upset he would reply with one word answers.

"No."

See what I mean? It was always this way, and I had to pretty much push him to screaming before he would answer.

"So, why are you upset?" I asked, as I put the pan on the stove.

"I am not." he answered, an upset note coming through his voice, as he rolled into the ratty looking kitchen.

Ah, now we were getting somewhere, three words. "You are. So why don't you just tell me what happened?" I asked soothingly, not wanting him to get upset.

"Alright," he relented after a moment of thinking it over. "These boys, they were calling us scum and said I was just pretending not to walk, so I wouldn't have to sell drugs like Mom and Dad."

I sighed; this was the exact thing I had wanted to keep from him. Alex was twelve he didn't need to know all the mess my parents were into. "Did you just ignore them?" I questioned.

He blew at me, and then replied sarcastically, "No, I just magically climbed out of my wheelchair and pounded them." he said rolling his eyes.

Yeah, he's usually sweet, but has touch of a sarcastic nature. He got that from me. "Well, with that wheelchair could run over the guys." I replied hiding a smile as I turned to pour the now boiling water into a mug.

I saw a smile tug at his down turned lips, out of the corner of my eyes. "See, I almost made you laugh." I said with a smile.

He actually smiled this time. "Yeah you did." he admitted and then asked, "When are we getting out of here?"

I sighed, Alex always ended our conversations with this question and I always replied, "Soon."

Alex gave me and understanding nod and rolled out of the room and a few minutes later I heard the TV being cut on.

I sighed as I sat down with my coffee and stared into space, paying absolutely no attention to news.

But a few minutes later my brother came wheeling back into the kitchen, with sad look in his blue eyes. "They found another person that will be going to Willie Wonka's chocolate factory, there's only one ticket left." he said sadly.

My brother had been paying the utmost attention to this silly golden ticket, game, some rich chocolate maker had going on, but that's when I remembered what kind of chocolate bar, I had bought my brother.

"If I only had a Wonka bar." my brother was sighing.

"Look in the paper bag." I said uninterestedly, there was no way my brother would win a golden ticket, that was a one in a million chance.

He smiled happily when he saw I had bought him a chocolate bar.

"It doesn't have golden ticket in it." I replied, in a dull tone. No sense in the kid getting his hopes up, but he just ignored me as he opened the chocolate bar.

And just as I had expected, there was no gold ticket, or so I thought, as my brothers angelic face fell, I saw a flash of gold hit the stained linoleum.

I was up in a flash and picked up a long ticket that seemed to be made out of tinfoil or something, I couldn't quiet grasp the fact that I was holding a ticket and assumed myself to be crazy, but then I heard my brother gasp and knew I was not crazy.

I had Willie Wonka's golden ticket.

**This is my first attempt at writing Charlie and the Chocolate factory fic, so be gentle and review.**


	2. Skye's escape and meeting Willie

That night I held the ticket out in front of me and stared at it, remembering the events that preceded its appearance.

First of all Alex went into hysterics, not overly so, but still it was a shock to see him screaming in such a way, and then there was my mother's reaction.

She came home long after Alex had been put to bed. Sober for once in her life, I prayed that she would be in a decent mood.

But as it goes that prayer went unanswered, when I explained what was going on and the fact that Alex and I would be leaving, she went into hysterics.

Not for Alex or my sake, but more for the money she would lose while I was gone, and after cursing and screaming for what seemed like hours she finally said "Your grown do whatever you want and take the that useless retard, with you." She meant Alex of course.

And with that she entered into her room with a bottle of booze and a pack of cigarettes.

I of course began to pack. Alex and I were not sticking around to deal with my father's reaction.

I now sat with the golden ticket in my hand, and began to read the bold print that seemed to be what finally pushed me into leaving.

Greetings founder of this lovely golden ticket, from Mr. Willie Wonka; I warmly invite you to visit my chocolate factory, on the eighth day in the month of February. Of course to enter my factory you will need to bring a single elder sister or cousin. This is non optional.

Sincerely

Mr. Willie Wonka

What a strange request. I thought suspiciously, why would he want only a sister or cousin? But I didn't linger on this because this was what gave me the excuse to take Alex away from this place and I was certainly not going to complain.

Besides Alex and I fit the one requirement, so I was not going to over think this.

And with that I reached down and picked up my leather suitcase and hurried into Alex's room, where I would pack quickly before waking him.

All the while praying that my dad would not come home before I finished because if he did Alex and I would not be leaving here unscarred

I walked into Alex's room and turned the overhead light on, and looked around before shaking him awake, it was decorated as only twelve year old can have it. There were comic books spread all over the floor, a table was pushed up against the wall, which he used for a desk, the table was covered in school papers and pencils with the erasers nibbled off, the walls were covered in posters and news paper clippings about Willie Wonka, so much so that you couldn't see the ugly brown walls underneath.

I sighed as walked over to his small twin bed where he slept with only a thin a blanket. "Alex," I whispered shaking him gently. "Alex, get up." I said urgently, because I really had no desire to see my father tonight.

"Skye?" he asked sleepily, "what's going on?"

"We're leaving tonight. We need to be out of here before dad decides to return." I explained, as I reached under his bed for the small sickly green suitcase that I knew was under there.

But when I pulled it out, it felt heavier than I had expected as if there were already clothing in it. I opened the brass clasps and threw it open to see that every piece of clothing Alex owned was already packed.

"When did you do this?" I questioned him, while staring at the packed suitcase in shock and wonderment.

"Yeah, Skye, I forgot to tell you," he yawned and stretched his hands over his head, "I've been packed ever since you said we would leave here." I turned my head to see him give me a sleepy grin.

"Well that saves me a lot of trouble." I commented crisply, hating how he always took the initiative to do things without my go ahead., but the other part is I know what my father would have done to him if had found the packed suitcase.

"Skye, I knew we would leave and I saw no reason not to do it." Alex explained, looking at me with his huge innocent blue eyes and that made me feel remorse at being so rough.

"Besides the fact that dad would have whipped you good if he had found out." I said in slightly less crisp tone.

He just stared at me, looking like a little angel and I wondered how anyone could have the heart to treat his so badly.

"Well, we better get going." I finally said, in a soft tone, as I grabbed him a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and quickly helped him dress before helping Alex into his wheelchair.

But before we could exit out the front door, my father came storming in, now my father wasn't a large man, he was about five-seven and thin, but muscular. He had long brown hair and dark brown eyes the same color as my own.

Today those dark eyes had a stormy cloudy look in them, and I knew he was drunk.

"Where are you going?" he slurred to me, while ignoring Alex.

"Alex, go outside." I ordered him, and he did as I said without another word. I didn't want him seeing this because I knew it would be ugly.

"Where do you think your going?" my father demanded again.

"I'm leaving." I stated simply, and felt so very weak. I didn't know how I was going to get out of here, but I knew it was that or die.

"Oh no, your not, your mother and I need you." he spat out a wad of brown salvia covered tobacco onto the ground, and I felt my stomach turn.

I wasn't going to humor him, so I didn't even bother asking what for because I already knew the answer to that, and instead said, "I'm leaving and there's nothing you can do about it." I watched as he cracked his knuckles and laughed.

"You wanna bet?" he asked walking over to me, with his fist raised.

I didn't reply I watched as he pulled his fist back and swung knocking me square in the eye. It hurt so bad I thought I would scream, but I didn't I refused to give him that satisfaction, instead I felt myself fall to the floor, and waited for him to kick me in the ribs, but it didn't happen.

Instead he spat out another wad of tobacco, and laughed. "That's your good-bye present. Now get." he slurred.

I scrambled quickly to my feet and practically ran from the living room to where Alex sat in his wheelchair both suitcases in hand outside of the apartment.

"Skye." he gasped, and at first I didn't know what he was gasping at and I remembered my eye. So I reached up and felt it gingerly. It was most definitely going to be a shiner.

"Don't worry; I'll put some ice on it later." I said walking behind his wheelchair and pushed him over to the elevator, where we were transported down to the first floor, where we walked outside to a waiting cab that I had called earlier.

The cab driver gave me a filthy look as I helped Alex in the cab and folded up his wheelchair and placed it in the back of the cab.

"I didn't know you had a crippled." he commented roughly.

I eyed the man as I took the seat in front with him, he was about forty with thinning gray hair and ugly pockmarked skin and black eyes that bulged slightly giving him the appearance of a reptile.

"I didn't know they let reptiles drive." I retorted angrily, and I could feel Alex's annoyed eyes burning into the back of my head. He thought I should control my tongue, and I chose to ignore him.

The man then became silent, and I didn't have anymore trouble out of him for the rest of the ride to the airport.

Getting on a plane was a little rough and we had to leave Alex's wheelchair and I have to pull out our passports that I had ordered a few months earlier, but we finally got on a plane that would take us straight to England and hopefully to our new, better, life.

--

_**Willie Wonka's Point of View.**_

I stood once again in my factory a little less alone, than the last time, with Charlie and his lovely family; my days were filled with warmth and laughter. But Charlie was at the age where he wanted to spend time with his friends and the occasional girl that had caught his eyes, while Mr. and Mrs. Bucket had each other, and the rest of the family were bedridden.

It's not that I blamed Charlie wanting to spend time with his friends instead of an old Chocolateer, even though I wasn't that old, but you get the idea.

So that's when I got the wonderful idea of sending out Golden Tickets, but for a very different reason than looking for an successor, this I wanted a wife.

But knew that I needed to be very sly in this aspect, I am a very famous chocolate, and a widely famous bachelor and I have no desire to wed a money hungry wench.

When I explained to Charlie my wishes, considering he was my successor and sole confident. He was very happy to help me with this idea, while I had the vaguest feeling that the other Buckets, thought looking for a wife by inviting random set of women to the factory was a very strange way of finding what I wanted, but then again a lot of things I did were strange, so by this time I was used to it.

But Mrs. Bucket, seemed happy to help me ready myself for the women by giving me a "Makeover" as she put it. According to her I was in awful shape to be looking for a wife.

So I agreed to let her fix me up and I also agreed to let Charlie handle the tickets and what they would say, which would be his job eventually and I knew doing this would give him experience in that department.

So on the day Mrs. Bucket told me to come to her apartments that sat in the very top of the factory; I wore no hat, and very plain clothing.

I entered the Bucket's apartment, to find her waiting with appeared to be new clothes, haircutting scissors, and something in a wicked looking bottle, which I was pretty sure, was supposed to go on my head.

"Sit, Willie." she ordered pointing to a blond colored kitchen chair. After a year of living in my factory, she had gotten over calling me Mr. Wonka, as had the rest of the family.

I took a seat on the hard chair and waited as she walked in front of me, with an appraising look in her dark brown eyes.

"You really need to go out more often," she commented as she tapped her finger against her chin in a thoughtful motion, "you are so pale, it's ridiculous."

I looked down at my milk white hands and wondered why she would want me to resemble an oompha-loompa, and said as much.

She clucked and ignored me as she reached out for a pair of scissors, and pulled out a dozen magazine pages out of a black binder. "Now I am going to cut your hair and I want you to pick one of these 'stylish' haircuts." she informed me with a slight grin that I found highly suspicious.

And as I began to dig through the glossy pages, each haircut seemed more outrageous than the last. "What's wrong with my normal, haircut?" I questioned irritably.

"Because no woman wants to marry a man with a pageboy." she informed me.

And I sighed as I reached up and felt my chin length brown hair that had been my haircut ever since I had become a chocolateer, and then realized that a new haircut would be nice, besides, much like candy I should always be changing.

So I picked out the most outrageous one and felt pretty good about my choice, and waited as she chopped my brown locks into the haircut I had chosen.

After she had finished she eyed her work appreciatively, and then she reached out for the wicked looking bottle.

"And what are you planning to do with that?" I asked feeling a knot of dread at her response.

"Willie, I am going to dye your hair." she replied with a shrug as if it was no big deal.

"What color?" I asked with a nervous gulp, this was going to be more dramatic than I had first suspected.

"Black." she dropped the bomb and turned to the supplies, beginning to prepare everything for my hair's transformation.

I looked at the wicked bottle with a frown before saying, "no way."

"Mr. Wonka, you wanted to invite the girl's here, so I refuse to let you look like an idiot." she said and I could hear a mixture of annoyance and coaxing in her voice.

"Fine." I sighed, while fighting against my natural reaction to be stubborn and refuse, but she probably knew what was best when it came to women.

"Good." she said with a snap of white gloves that would protect her hands from the dye chemicals. "Let's began."

I let my mind wonder as the process of dying my hair began. I had a certain picture of the girl I wanted to be my bride in my head. She had to be tall and thin, with long golden hair and wide blue eyes. Yes sort of the fairy princess type that's what I wanted.

But what of her personality? I thought, while nibbling on my lower lip. Well she needed to be; sweet, quiet, pleasant, virtuous, and most of all beautiful.

But even then when I thought these thoughts it never occurred in my mind that a girl like that would be boring or even nonexistent. So I became positive I would only have that type of girl and none other, never thinking that the girl I met would be very different.

"Willie, I'm finished." Mrs. Bucket said cheerfully, as she held up a medium sized silver mirror.

I gasped as I stared at my transformed reflection, it's not that I looked bad, in fact, it was quite the opposite, but I just didn't look like myself.

My once brown pageboy had been transformed into a chin length spiky hairdo that fell over one eye in a weird sort of manner and then there was the fact that it was raven black, but it somehow complemented my milk white skin, and I felt myself smile.

I resembled someone very different than of that I had been before, but I still managed to hold my quirky qualities, that were what made me…well…me!

--

_**Skye's Point of View.**_

England was indeed very different than America, but still I managed to find a motel for Alex and me, until I could find a house for us and a job for myself.

We still had three days before we needed to arrive at the factory, which was, only a few minutes from where we were staying. Trust me I checked.

But I was glad to get Alex away from our old lifestyle, hopefully we could finally make a home, at least that was what I prayed for.

And then the day before we would be going the chocolate I left Alex at the motel, and headed down the street to a store to by us some dinner.

Everything was fine until, I came out of the store and then I got an idea for a story in my head and I could hardly wait to get back to the hotel to right it down. So excited that I was, I didn't notice the man standing in front of me as I made my way back to Alex and ran right into the man.

My groceries went flying and I fell to the icy ground with a thud, I looked up to see what I had, ran into. It was a fairly tall man; he was on the thin side, with nice black hair, warm brown eyes and milk pale skin.

He turned to me as if just realizing he was the cause of my fall. "You should watch where your going." he said not unkindly it was just blunt, but this still set my blood boiling.

"No, you shouldn't be standing in the middle of the sidewalk." I retorted angrily, as I scrambled to my feet and looked down to see my jeans had been torn and my hands were scraped up and bloody, I felt the dull sting, but ignored it as I stood ready to face him.

He gave me a goofy grin as if he found my anger somehow amusing. Forgetting all about the possible idea for a story, I began to yell insults at him, as I gathered my groceries from the icy ground.

But he only watched interestedly, and didn't reply to my insults, so I finally ran out of steam.

"What's your name?" he asked me, while studying me intently as if I would be his inspiration for something.

His question took my by surprise, so I stuttered out a quick, "what?"

"Your name, you must have a name, everyone does. Unless you're an Oompa-Loompa and then well I still can't quite understand what they call each other." he rambled looking past me as if his mind was elsewhere.

"Of course I have a name," I said crossing my arms and eyeing him suspiciously, wondering if he was crazy. "It's Skye."

He smiled, "I like it, though you don't look like a Skye." he said once again with that undeniable bluntness, and it made my temperature rise.

"Well I don't see how that's any of your concern." I replied eyeing him wearily, but if he noticed he didn't show it.

"My name's Willie." he informed me, while watching me for a reply.

"Well you don't look like a Willie; in fact you look more like a Raven or something like that." I said not to be out done by, his own comment. But unlike him I wasn't being, blunt, only snide.

He looked into the store's glass window at his reflection and nodded, "I agree. You see I dyed my hair recently and I got a new haircut, so I don't really look like myself…" he dropped off as if realizing I didn't really care.

"Well, Willie," I said irritably, "I need to head home." I informed him before marching off, not waiting for his reply, but I could still feel his warm brown eyes staring into my back, long after I left his sight, and I was mostly thankful I wouldn't see him or his strange personality again.

If only I had knew, I might have saved myself a lot of pain, but then my heart my never had been softened.

**Alright, thanks for the reviews and I'm going to need you guys to send me a few OC's, if they're male they need to be children, but I also need female children and adults.**

**This is an example of the form I'll need.**

**Name: Amy Livingston**

**Age: 28**

**Personality: Bubbly, sweet, a little on the naive side.**

**Looks: Long waist length brown hair, large hazel eyes, slim.**

**Background, job, ect: Originates in London England, single mom, husband died in car accident leaving her alone with their then eight year old daughter, she works at a diner in London.**

**Anything extra you might want to add: likes romance novels and chocolate, she has a small cat that she's owned since childhood.**

**Specific Possessions: A sliver locket her husband gave her before dying and a gold hairbrush she received from her mother when she was a little girl.**

**Okay that's about it. Read and Review.**


	3. Author's note

**A note about this Fiction!!!!!!!**

**----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Okay people to complete this Willie Wonka fiction, I need to say this is interactive, which simply means I need you guys to create characters for me to use, OC's.

So this is a example of a form you guys need to use:

**Name: Leann James**

**Age: 28**

**Traits: long black hair, almond shaped green eyes, tall about 5'8, slim, a mole on her cheek.**

**Likes: reading, writing, chocolate, romance novels.**

**Job: Liberian.**

**Hometown: San Francisco, CA.**

**The Child she brings along: Amy Smith, her twelve year old niece, a small boned girl with delicate features, short bobbed brown hair, black eyes, she found the golden ticket, lives with her Aunt Leann.**

**Background: Never been married, took her niece in when hr parents died in a car crash, lives a quiet life in the city with her niece, dislikes excitement anything that would disrupt her quiet life, but took a chance on the whole golden ticket idea, deciding it couldn't hurt to be spontaneous for once…etcetera.**

So pretty much just be creative and it will make this story fifty times more interesting, and I will make sure your accredited for your OC.

Okay that's it. Waiting in the Wings.


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